‘Pundertaking’ proves to be unexpected fun

Two gentlemen stood outside of a corporate team-building studio space in San Francisco’s Mission District on Saturday night, Oct. 14. They were wearing name tags and looked excited, thus confirming my suspicion that I was in the right place. I flung my too-big shoulder bag behind my back and readied my e-ticket on my iPhone. One of the smiling men looked up at me and asked, “Are you a competitor or just here to watch?”

The Bay Area Pun-Off began a year and a half ago in a living room in Oakland and has grown into a wildly popular monthly event in San Francisco, consistently selling out well in advance of showtime. As its name implies, the Bay Area Pun-Off is quite literally a pun contest — a tightly organized showdown of “dad jokes” in a friendly setting that proudly celebrates its own ridiculousness.

“I think it can be a radical act, nowadays, to come together and celebrate, laugh, tell jokes and be silly,” said BAPO founder Jonah Spear by email, “and it’s a very healing thing, too, I think.”

I’ll be honest. I didn’t expect to enjoy this week’s column subject. It was a last-minute replacement for an Ocean Beach sand-castle-building contest that had been postponed due to dangerous weather conditions caused by the wildfires up north. A pun contest sounded agonizing, but perhaps, I hoped, there would be something of relevant interest I could dig out of the proceedings and publish.

Folks, the Pun-Off is fantastic! I didn’t want it to end. I’m going back next month.

I arrived early enough to score a solid seat in the Go Game San Francisco headquarters. The space, designed for teams of employees to bond over wacky activities, had been transformed into a funky theater. Rows of plastic benches faced a makeshift stage, the white wall of which curved into the floor as if designed for a 1980s catalog photo shoot. A couch and a handful of mismatched armchairs joined the seating options, as did a few weathered rugs and piles of pillows strewn around the floor.

I sat against a side wall made of cubbyholes labeled with things ostensibly needed for corporate team building like “unicorn horns” and “the world’s largest underpants.” Happy staffers sold $5 plastic cups of wine and cans of beer. A sheet of cookies ($2 each when ready) was baking in the Go Game’s kitchen.

Host Carmen “Meimei” Olson took the stage and welcomed everyone before she went down the Pun-Off’s extensive list of complicated rules. A maximum of 10 preregistered contestants competed in presenting puns on surprise themes — subjects like “things that are orange” and “animals in films.” Any breach of the rules — using a pun that had already been made, for example — was cause for disqualification. I’m still trying to wrap my head around some of the more complex guidelines, particularly the ones around syllables.

“It’s a massive pundertaking,” shouted a voice from the back of the crowd.

Most puns, at least in my opinion, are eye-rollingly cheesy. But the fun of BAPO is in the sport of it. Contestants develop puns on a theme in front of strangers under a five-second time constraint within an agonizing set of parameters. I was no a fan of the product, per se. It was the process that was deliciously entertaining.

As the setting encouraged, the crowd formed an instant bond. We’d champion puns that should count, and encourage Olson to disqualify anyone who’d broken a rule or taken too long. I was on the edge of my seat and held my breath as contestants struggled to perfect a pun on the spot. One gentleman in plaid shorts and “Mark” name tag had done particularly well, churning out puns on topic with rapid and deadpan delivery. When he was finally disqualified, the crowd was on his side, chanting, “Mark! Mark! Mark!” as he made his way back to his seat.

BAPO, said Spear, “is creating an environment that feels inclusive and inviting, and celebrating something that’s usually kinda embarrassing.”

In the end, Shantini Vyas, a 27-year-old from Palo Alto, won. It was Vyas’ third time competing in BAPO and her first win. In fact, she’s only the second woman ever to score top honors. Vyas was soon surrounded by friends and fans, suddenly celebrated for her wonderful wordplay. Would she compete again?

“Oh, yes!” gushed Vyas, who held her handmade trophy and beamed like a really smart Miss America. “Absolutely.”

Beth Spotswood is a San Francisco native who grew up in Marin County and returned to San Francisco after college in the East. She spent four years as a backstage dresser for “Steve Silver’s Beach Blanket Babylon” before signing on as a website producer for KPIX.

Spotswood’s work has been featured on KPIX, SFist, San Francisco Magazine, 7x7 Magazine, Porchlight Storytelling Series, LitQuake, Muni Diaries and the Bold Italic. She was the 2011 Reader’s Choice for 7x7 Magazine’s Hot 20 Under 40, completed classes at Second City Training Center in Chicago and is the digital editor at Alta Magazine. A Mission District resident for 15 years, Beth lives with her husband and son.